Jamie, meet Dylan. Dylan, meet Jamie

Chapter Twenty

        "Mhmm," he just replied. I looked at him, then I looked at Mom across in the living room. Did he really cheat on her? I mean, if he did cheat then he cheated on her with a married woman. It didn't sound right, but I didn't bother to believe Dylan, anyway. Of course a part of me kind of did. 

        "So how's the election so far?" I said as I tried to make conversation while waiting for my coffee.

        "It's going great. Mike said there's a bump in voters so fingers crossed," he told me. I smiled and nodded. This coffee wouldn't finish making itself.

        "Why do you need coffee for, anyway?" Dad asked, finally wary of my coffee.

        I let out a breath of relief at the brewed coffee. "Essay," I just said.

        "I don't like you procrastinating," Dad said. Yeah maybe I should've stayed home, only I knew he would insist I have some "fun" because life wasn't worth missing out on. What a joke.

        I ignored him and poured my coffee in my San Francisco mug, but decided to take the whole pot with me instead. 

        My back ached me as I placed my coffee on my desk and I popped another Panadol to ease the pain. I could faintly hear my phone buzz through my backpack and I had to fish through the puddle of clothes to fetch it. I had five missed calls -all from Dylan. My heart skipped a beat as I answered the next call. I didn't want to hear how angry he was at me for thinking I was ignoring him. Five missed calls was more than enough to tip him over his edge.

        "H-hello?" I croacked. I took in a deep breath to receive the lashing.

        "Where the hell have you been? I called you a hundred times," he said and I raised my brows. I had never heard him like this; he was...panicking. 

        "Sorry I was making so-" I tried to explain but he cut me off. What an ass.

        "I don't care!" he said as he raised his voice. He was back. "I completely forgot about the fucking history essay and I don't have time to research let alone come up with a topic. I need a paper tomorrow," he said. 

        I gulped. Was he serious? 

        "Dylan I'm sorry I'm already stuck with mine, I can't take on another-" I began to explain, but he cut me off again.

        "Did you forget that I own you, Forrester? Did you honestly forget that I controlled you?" he didn't yell. But I wished he did. His tone sent shivers up my spine. I rubbed a hand through my hair.

        "If you don't want to do it, fine. But just tell me so I can call the police and tell them about Tucker. You know, that guy you murdered that you forgot about?" he said. I rubbed a hand through my hair again.  I was sweating bullets now.

        "Or do you want me to send those things I have on your dad to the police? Huh? How good will his election game be? Oh, or should I tell your mom about the affair? Do you think she'll love knowing her husband has a daughter? I have plenty of options ready for you, Jamie. Just tell me what and I'll do it right away. Heck I'd skip the essay for you," he said. My throat was dry and I couldn't speak.

        "Okay I'll do it," I said. I just wanted him to shut up.

        There was a pause and I knew he was smiling. "Good," he finally said. "And I'd better get an A on it," he added before hanging up.

        "Asshole!" I yelled through the phone as soon as he hung up. I wanted to punch something so bad but I panted and gripped my hair with my hands.